Silver Winter
by withoutwingsx
Summary: HPDM Alternate Universe. Harry Potter, a well-known victim of a famed british serial killer, inherits foreign property from his deceased parents and decides to attend the American college nearby, living in the house alone. His dark and lonely world is turned upside down, however, by his ghostly younger neighbor who he can't help but want to learn more about.


HPDM Alternate Universe. Harry Potter, a well-known victim of a famed british serial killer, inherits foreign property from his deceased parents and decides to attend the American college nearby, living in the house alone. His dark and lonely world is turned upside down, however, by his new schoolmate, a book burning genius, a flame haired detective determined to find out what exactly had happened on that fated night three years ago, and his ghostly younger neighbor who he can't help but want to learn more about.

...

Silver snow drifted down in gentle flakes from the heavens. A brief and sorrow filled smile flitted temporarily across his lips. Winter had come.

Sighing, the raven haired boy turned from the window almost ruefully. He closed the dark cranberry curtain, coughing at the small particles of dust that filled the hair from the disturbance. The fire crackled in the hearth and he drifted closer to its warmth. His hands stretched in front of him, he removed the dark gray gloves that enclosed his sun kissed hands. He glanced around the room, the dark walls had dancing shadows from the crackling fire, the silent portraits hanging, briefly lit up as the fire brightened and swayed over the darkening wood. It would take some getting used to this house, this lonely fortress with its many rooms, all his, only him living in the silent manor. The house was antique in nature, portraits and decorations almost Victorian, the walls all dark red or purple and the floors almost black wood, even the chandeliers that hung in a few of the rooms were decorated with black crystals.

He sighed and drifted off towards the kitchen, light peeping through the cracked door to his left. He could use a cup of tea. He squinted as he entered the room, the marble counter tops reflecting the light from the small chandelier hanging in the middle of the ceiling. He opened one of the cabinets, his eyes dancing from jar to jar, each one holding a different blend of leaves and spices, a label sitting on the lid of each. He finally settled on some variety of chai and took out a sauce pan, heating some water and spooning the leaves into a mug he grabbed from a shelf above the teas. The mug was white porcelain, with red roses decorating the handle, a small crack at the edge of the cup, spider webbing across the surface. The water began to boil and he poured it on the leaves, the water immediately turning a reddish brown color. He rinsed the saucepan in the sink and grabbed his mug, returning to the main room and this time sitting on the dark brown leather couch that was carefully distanced from the hearth.

His mind began to wander as he eyes followed the flames as they flickered. He started university tomorrow. He wasn't looking forward to it, but it was inevitable. At least here he was away from the stares and the sorrow he had experienced back in Britain since three years ago, the night his parents were killed and his world was forever turned upside down. The fire was slowly dying, he noticed, but he didn't move and just watched it turn into ash.

Tomorrow would be easy enough, he decided. Three classes, a large campus, and no need to linger around and worry about the same issues that had plagued him in high school. He had no need to look for friends, no need to find someone to sit with during lunch. He was a full fledged adult, 19 years old, and this was merely his "job" of sorts, or "college career" as they called it. He had no need for a part time job, the money left to him more than enough for him to live comfortably, but he knew he still needed a degree and a distraction.

Sighing he stood up, and blew out the few flickering embers that remained. His feet, covered in black socks, padding silently across the wood as he made his way through the hall towards one of many rooms, the one that he had chosen to serve as a bedroom. It was simple, deep purple velvet walls, navy curtains covering the windows, and almost black wood furniture. The bed was large and draped in navy blue blankets and a large green coverlet, lace detail dancing across the excessive pillows and the bed skirt. The bed was a canvas, four dark wood posters holding a cloth make shift ceiling, decorative netting hanging like another form of curtains. He pushed aside the netting and slipped into the bed, setting his spectacles on the bedside table. He closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come.

He awoke minutes before his alarm, turning over and glancing at the time. 7:57. Three minutes until the shrill noise would erupt from the black box with bright blue flickering numbers. His class started at 9, giving him time for breakfast, to get dressed and to get to the school with time to spare. He sighed and at up, getting out of the bed and disabling the alarm. The air was chilly and he missed the warmth of the substantial amount of blankets that covered his bed. He could feel the cold through his thick socks. He pulled on his glasses and flipped on one of the lights that covered the high ceiling.

Moving to the closet he pulled out a dark long sleeve shirt, pants, and a black coat and scarf. Wincing, he stripped and pulled on the new clothes, goosebumps decorating his skin. He found a pair of heavy, seemingly warm boots and pulled those on as well, his body slowly warming up the clothes, ceasing his internal shivering. He grabbed his phone off the wall charger, and closed his bedroom door behind him, making his away to the kitchen, the soft padding of his boots the only sound in the house.

He fried an egg and some potatoes for breakfast, a cup of coffee to go along with the meal, more for the warmth than the energy though he knew he would probably need both. He glanced at the stove clock. It was almost time to go.

He quickly brushed his teeth and moved into the living room, grabbing his gray gloves and pulling them on, grabbing his car keys off one of the tables and his already packed bookbag from the front door.

The black voltswagon was parked towards the bottom of the driveway, before it turned into the quarter mile private dirt road that led to the front gate. He huffed through the cold and slipped into the car, cranking the heat to full power and changing the car into reverse, flipping around and speeding down the driveway. Both his neighbors were blocked by hedges, their green walls behind his own wrought gray iron ones. He could just make out a garden to his left through a thinning hedge, but he shifted his attention towards the front gate, pushing a button on the remote in the car, and the gate opened inwards. He pulled out onto the main road, no cars in sight, he slowly turned left and glanced at the neighboring house, the three story manor visible from the main road. He paused as a flash of white met his eyes from one of the top windows. He squinted and his foot lingered on the brake, but just as soon as he saw it, it was gone, and he shook his head.

...

Hoped you enjoyed, as you can see this was mostly some character development but there will be much more to come! This IS HP X DM.


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